


Overdrawn

by darkangel_silvermoon



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Anxiety, Comfort fic, Derek Morgan - Freeform, Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid - Freeform, Other, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Second Person, Spencer Reid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 07:05:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15702270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel_silvermoon/pseuds/darkangel_silvermoon
Summary: Spencer Reid is not here.Spencer Reid is not safe.Spencer Reid is not okay.





	Overdrawn

**Author's Note:**

> The thought of Reid coping with a kidnapping has been buging me for awhile. I know this is a tired trope, but I had fun writing this Drabble. Trigger warning for panic attacks/ ptsd/ anxiety. 
> 
> Thank you for giving this fic a chance.

The droplets of water expand, leaving small circles decorating your FBI shirt. You run your fingers through your hair, gently working through the knots. 

You’re just happy you’re home in one piece.

You don’t plan on getting kidnapped. It sorta just happens...

You rest your head on the back of the sofa, listening to the quiet hum of your apartment. You hear the swish of cars making their way down the dark street; your breathing mixing with the sleepy air. 

_You are here._  
You are safe.  
You are okay. __

____

You try to push the dark thoughts from the edges of your mind.  
You feel like you’re a sandy shore; the tide keeps crumbling your foundation, til there’s nothing left of you. 

You are here.  
You are safe.  
You are okay.

Time creeps by. You know there will be no sleep tonight. There never is when you’ve been through something on a case. The experience leaves it’s sticky fingers all over you. 

Time stands still. 

The air feels like it’s been sucked from your lungs and you’re fucking panicking.  
You’re alone on your couch and it feels as though you’re breathing through a straw. Your fingers numb as you scrabble for your phone. Your body lead as you unlock it; mind on autopilot as you go to your contacts. Send the message—

S.o.S

You try to relax. 

You’re here  
You’re safe  
You’ll be okay...

You try to relax you’re breathing, and fail spectacularly. You feel your phone vibrate between clenched grasp. Your body is not your own as you float away. 

Spencer Reid is not here.  
Spencer Reid is in danger.  
Spencer Reid will not be okay. 

Your jaw aches as you struggle to fight back tears; hot and heavy behind closed eyelids.  
A fire in your bones as you try to keep yourself together. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, but you smell him before you see him. 

You can hear yourself whimper. 

Shame heats your face; a grown thirty something year old man can’t keep his shit together. 

You try not to flinch against the light touch of fingers on your shoulder.  
You try to focus; but everything’s coming in too fast too loud too much too much too much...

“Hey there Pretty Boy.” You see him kneel in front of you, pressing his hands against your thighs. 

Your throat is squeezing tight, jaw wired shut. Only small animalistic sounds leak out. 

You feel him squeeze your fingers. Gentle little palpating squeezes. You breathe in and out trying to focus on his touch; his gaze locked on to yours. 

You try to clear your throat, you see him shake his head and whisper  
“shhh...relax kid. Just breathe.” 

And you do. In and out as he squeezes up your forceps. Making a buzzing trail up to your biceps. You see his face, a mask of reassurance as he works the knots out of you.  
His touch makes it’s way up your shoulders and neck, his fingertips resting against your pulse point. 

“Reid you’re here. You’re safe. You’re gonna be okay.” His voice is steady as he wipes at the tears slowly trekking their way to your chin.

The tears come faster now, sobs bubble up from your gut, twisting in your chest until they claw out of you. You try to curl into yourself, but his grasp stops you. He scoops you up, cradling you to his side as you bury your face into his skin. 

All the pressure in you releases as you cry; you feel his heavy hand run up and down your side, your back- any place it can find to drive the ache away. 

Eventually the sobs peter out and you can finally take a deep breath. 

He hums, wrapping his arm around you as he pulls you into a tight hug. 

“Thank you, Derek.” You whisper, and he hugs you tighter still. A small laugh bubbles up; your body heavy with fatigue. 

“No problem Spence.” He says. He repositions you both on the couch, grabbing the blanket off the side and covers you. 

You snuggle close; drifting off to sleep listening to the steady heartbeat against his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m trying to get back in the groove of writing. Let me know what you think, it’d be greatly appreciated.


End file.
